Unspoken
by TheThirdAetas
Summary: Now expanded: Just short muses on some of the possibilities of what goes unspoken behind Reese's and Finch's eyes. Chapter 2: "It just didn't make sense for Finch to trust Reese."
1. Separation of Hope

Wow...I'm actually POSTING something on Person of Interest? How blasphemous!

Well, this something I thought up a long time ago and during a seemingly endless class lecture...I had ended up finally putting this all down onto paper. I decided to type it up and now...viola: a VERY prolonged thought process on the transitions of Reese's life. Very little dialogue. Might be a bit dry. Might be very boring to you. ^_^

Either way, thank you for stopping by and I hope you enjoy this!

* * *

**Post and Pre**

_Based on Season 1, Episode 1: Pilot_

* * *

Before Reese got past his late twenties, he was…well, he smiled. He laughed. He could make a mistake and not have it eat away at the back of his mind for months and months afterward. His back didn't strain with the weight of his guilt and sin.

In summary, he was happy.

Then the twin towers were targeted as a principle epitome for terrorism, taking down nearly 3000 people as a permanent reminder. And, suddenly, the death toll took on the ripple effect, reaching him in a way he never thought possible.

It made him another statistic.

It wasn't obvious at first though. It started with the realization of knowing he just _had_ to do something. Something that would appease the "noble heroics" gene hardwired into his DNA. But as it always has been, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. It was only then, though, did he realize the life-shattering validity behind it.

And everything after that…was history.

So, for a few years afterwards, that was how he defined the segments of his life: pre-9/11, post-9/11.

And then he met the CIA.

He thought he already reached rock bottom. But as it turned out, rock bottom was only the beginning.

_Pre-CIA._

That was when he volunteered nine years of life to asphyxiating darkness and moral nonexistence. And just when he believed there would be no end to it, he had finally reached it. But it wasn't through the "heroic" transition into a "casualty of war." No, he had reached the aftermath of his choices–forced to suffer for them–through a more different, unfathomably _crueler_ death…

_Post-CIA._

…He came back to a city that had Jessica's body buried six feet under. Because of him. Because of his ignorance, his selfishness. His jaded knowledge of reality and his loss of faith in life. He came back to a city to escape the hell he had left behind, only to find out he had simply reached the opposite end of hell itself.

And things didn't end from there.

The angel that piled up the bodies became the angel haunting the graves. The brink of a cliff down spiraled into outright deterioration. He went from simply being nameless to barely having a head screwed on his hollow body. He was helpless. Hopeless. Pathetic.

Alone.

But after two years of finding himself in that never-ending limbo, it took a matter of just 3 days for Reese to find himself _believing_ that could all _change_.

It took a matter of one offer and a single explanation for him to tentatively start believing Harold Finch–or whoever that man really is–could really make that all _change_. It was to a point where it _hurt_ to think that way. It's just been so long since he's ever had that kind of hope before. Even longer since it's been outright _given_ to him.

That's why it just made things easier to think of Finch as some bored, rich guy. Much easier than compared to thinking of him as a loaded, sincere human being who was in desperate need for his expertise. It was…_safer_.

He still contemplates that even now, when he's gradually starting to have faith in Finch's good heart. And the only thing that is holding him together at this point is–

"_You need a purpose."_

Damn right he did. But could Finch deliver one?

Despite his better senses of self-preservation, Reese was also beginning to think that maybe, _maybe_, that man really could. The process is flawed–his first ever case with the two-faced Diane Hansen did more than just wake him up to that fact–but even his diamond of a pre-9/11 life was filled with jagged cracks. In all honesty, his post-9/11 life was him simply falling into those chasms.

And either way…

"_If you want to leave, I'll give you enough money to get as far away as you need. Disappear._"

Anything was better than disappearing again.

Anything.

Especially when there's a reason not to. _Especially_ when there was someone who was giving him a reason not to.

"_And if I stay?_"

But if it did turn out Finch wasn't everything he seemed to be…if his new alliance with this eccentric, yet _humane_ billionaire showed it was nothing more than another cruel lie cloaked with promises and hope…

…Well, he knows exactly what his next segment in life will be.

And in that scenario, there's no more _post_ or _pre_.

"_Sooner or later, both of us will wind up dead. _Actually dead, this time._"_

* * *

**Fin**

* * *

Hmn...I feel like this needs to be continued...well, I'll see if I can think up something. For now, though...**_  
_**


	2. The Consequence of Trust

Well...I got this other idea...and I couldn't help but give into it. :) But I didn't want to post another one-shot, so I just decided to add it as a second chapter here.

This is a muse on Finch's thoughts now; it's not really a continuation on the first chapter, but you can see it more as...a build-up on Post and Pre.

I hope you enjoy, just a bit, on what I have to offer! Thanks so much for stopping by!

* * *

**Breached and Reached**

_Based on Season 1, Episode 2: Ghosts_

* * *

Trust does not come easily to Finch. He was not lying when he voiced those words to Reese.

But just because one wasn't lying didn't mean what they spoke of was the truth.

Because trust comes easier to Finch more so than he'd like to admit…and believe.

Of course, it doesn't mean he gives it away to the next person who walks by him. No, he knows better than to believe in a smile, a walk, a touch, or even a word. He puts his trust in the simple things of a person's character; the things that say more about them than they're willing to show. In summary, what their character is interested _in._

Nathan portrayed a promising interest in anything and everything technological. Coupled with his easygoing charisma and his noteworthy ability to handle Finch's unconventional personality quirks, it was enough to capture Finch's friendship within a week.

Grace, on the other hand, had an amazing talent when it came to drawing and painting. And as an aficionado in the traditional style of art, he had taken just one passing glance at her creation-in-progress and immediately, the woman gained his undivided attention. It definitely didn't hurt that her skill in social interaction was just as impressively nonexistent as his.

Then, of course…there were books. If one were to prove themselves well-read in classical novels, that person would have his respect in a heartbeat. Though, pay mind to the stress on _classical_ and not some poor excuse of a fictional genre.

And never had his methods failed him.

Until he was introduced to ex-CIA-operative John Reese.

It acquired much more than taking a look at his life career and on-record interests to figure just what type of man he was. That's why–at first–it made absolutely no sense in Finch's analytical, remarkable mind when he was presented the thought of _John Reese_ being a trustworthy individual.

That man had killed more human beings than Finch had killed spiders in his own home and used the one weapon he hated most like it was the solution for everything. He had perfected torture methods, preferred to look at who he interacted with more as assets than as people, and had sold himself to the darkness in order to _become_ it.

It just didn't make any sense.

But there had to be a reason why a sweet, lost woman such as Jessica Arndt interacted so _personally_ with an unworthy, puppet-like assassin such as Reese.

So of course, he dug a little deeper.

And what he resurfaced from the grave was something he knows his mind will never forget, even if he tried to make himself let go.

More losses in the span of ten years than a regular ninety year old man has to deal with in a lifetime. A heavy, poisonous shame that no human's shoulder should ever have to bear. This resigned familiarity of a world that aims to slit the throat of whoever finds out its name.

An abandoned email with a stray letter that never made it to its intended recipient…

"_Sacrifices are not sacrifices unless they end up making you sacrifice yourself along with it. And to fulfill the duties my country needed me to accomplish…that's exactly what I did." _

That was when he knew Reese was someone worthy of _anyone's_ trust_._

For all the man really wanted to do in life was to _help people_. Even with all the ramifications Reese knew that were closing in on him, the one thing that kept driving him forward was the belief that he was helping someone.

And Finch–creator of the Orwellian Machine–was in no position to condemn Reese for a misplaced belief in "good" and "bad."

That's why, with everything put together, it made sense for Finch to trust the ex-operative. In his character, his interests, his actions. At this point, he could even call it _automatic_–further questions needn't be asked.

It just made sense.

And that's why it also _didn't _make any sense to work with him.

His trust for Reese brought Finch to a point where just the thought of putting him in imminent and immediate danger made Finch flat out sick in the heart with panic-ridden anxiety. It is that fact alone which made hiring Reese all the more dangerous; it's one thing to work with someone and then care about them–it's a whole other dilemma when you already _do._

But even if Finch disregards that, what about the fact that he was bringing Reese right into the line of fire, _again_? Wasn't he was supposed to bring Reese out of the Grim Reaper's way?

…Hah. Right. Who was Finch kidding? Yes, he can bring Reese and the rest of the numbers out of range from an untimely demise, but if death really wanted them, death would've taken them.

That was the bittersweet irony of it all–even when you push a person to live, it never once means you will push a barrier between them and their million other future close-calls with death. It simply meant you had put them in a place that would enable them to fight _back_.

And Finch could do a lot of things, but he could not make miracles; his job was delaying the inevitable, not defying it. That was why _his _life, in particular, was revolved around giving people second chances. Especially to damaged, defeated men like Reese who deserve nothing but the opposite.

And even though he knows Reese deserves _better_ than this kind of life–the kind where the numbers can haunt, friends can never be friends, and possibilities can never be actualities–Finch knew it didn't matter.

Because it was _that_ same life which guaranteed Reese's second chance.

And damn everything Harold sacrificed _himself_ for if he didn't give that second chance to John.

* * *

**Fin**

* * *

Am I the only one who thinks Finch actually cared a lot about Reese from the beginning? Maybe I am the only one, lol. I don't know, I tend to think WAY too much on things and create something that never existed in the first place. :3 Well, either way, I hope I didn't over-do anything! If you feel like I have, however, feel free to voice your complaints.

Oh! I almost forgot to mention: I decided to update this at random time intervals. :P Whenever inspiration strikes me, I'll do my best to add in another chapter to this. I'm currently working for another fandom right now, so I can't promise anything...but I love PoI so much, so I'll see what I can do!


End file.
